precia liz

Once there lived a girl named past,
she believed the world was wonderful.
she enjoyed the singing of birds
and lullaby of wind and smile of flowers.
...

aft bid to the shower,
upon the bosom of the leaf,
lay the dew listening,
to the scherzo of nature.
...

Let me go away with the wind,
and find a home in some chasm.
you went with the sun,
that Monday and never came back.
...

All those pretty lilacs which died yesterday
at the strangers' grave, did they not know
that they carried all the sorrow of the world?
...

Yesterday, I talked to one of your faces,
the one that is yellow as your dress.

Each moment, I swallow the overwhelmed breath,
...

This sad undertone of existence
sways the little lilac flowers away
onto the soft grip on the rails.
Mute comprehension of all languages
...

Parched, dry mouth
and the drench of your treachery,
there your pygmy head
under my purple shoes
...

All the solitude swept into the pockets of time, there is sigh in every breath, the one under the weight of all the air around you.
As toddlers, we learn to walk into the nihility of life, away from the density of existence.
Happiness is a lie we tell ourselves, over and over again and self deception, an art of the survivor.
In crowds we had sought tranquility and serenity in the overflowing streets.
...

With the afternoon sun gaping at me
the dandelions fluttering around
they remind me nymphs in a book
i saw when i was three.
...

Summer brings me hue and odor without fail
Not the happiness imbued with purpose
But the mild unknowable gaiety,
In the thin air that never stays
...